


Together in Shadows

by MissMeggo



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMeggo/pseuds/MissMeggo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had been forced from her home in the shadows, made into a beacon for her people.  A reluctant ray of hope during the blight that threatened the land.  The mantle of responsibility had been thrust upon her shoulders and she wore it reluctantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together in Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my usual style of writing and I'm not quite sure where it came from.

It was her nature to keep in the shadows. Encased in the welcoming dark, she could pass unseen from all but the best trained eyes. As a child, she often exploited them to gain a hidden sweet treat or an afternoon away from tutors. In her teens, they hid her from a mother’s matchmaking gaze. She knew the shadows as well as they knew her. 

As an adult, she had been forced from her home in the shadows, made into a beacon for her people. A reluctant ray of hope during the blight that threatened the land. The mantle of responsibility had been thrust upon her shoulders and she wore it reluctantly. There was one among the masses that recognized the young rogue’s desire. He offered to walk the shadows with her. She agreed, but there were no such things as happy endings. The moment her dagger pierced the dragon skin of the corrupted old god, the reluctant heroine gladly welcomed the permanent dark.

But it was not to be. Morrigan’s ritual worked and she found herself waking, once again pulled from the comfort of her shadows. Her companions rejoiced as their friend awoke, none more happy than her lover. Soon, there was talk of celebrations and balls, raising morale and duties to the Wardens. The glare of adoration became blinding and she craved a return to her shadows. 

The crafty rogue bade her time. Alistair made her an arlessa and the Wardens made her a commander. They handed her the keep and in turn she built them a fortress. The men and women of the land adored her, as did the wardens she recruited. Her companion in the shadows returned home and she whispered a promise to follow. As The Mother fell and The Architect fled, she returned to the shadows. 

They were different here, the shadows. No longer did she blend into the thralls of people on the street. Dark hair and pale skin that once provided camouflage now betrayed her. The young rogue found herself exhilarated in the chance to find new shadows, new ways to conceal herself.

Weeks passed as she learned the new sights, new sounds. Each moment provided new ways to test herself. The ports were the easiest during the day while the cloak of night drew her farther into the city. For the first time since awakening, the rogue began to look forward to the days ahead.

The whisperings began on the dawn of her second month in the city. The traitor had returned and the Crows were moving. Bets were made as to who would survive the inevitable confrontation. The woman waited and watched while the assassin's guild began to prowl the streets. In chaos and turmoil, she overheard the story. A she pirate had landed and in her company, an elf. 

The rogue took her place above the streets, the crossbeams of buildings her new forest. Dusk settled before the she pirate emerged. Even from the distance, she recognized the curves and lines her hands had traveled over more than once. Content, she departed. He had returned.

It was less than a day before she found him. Like water over river stone, her lover wove between the people who wanted him dead. Still, she did not approach. He would find her in the shadows, or not at all. She should have learned by now though, things rarely went as planned.

They surrounded him in the square, outside the home of a merchant price. Her lover could handle it, of this she was certain. What she planned, was for her. The shadows were there for her to use as a cloak, a weapon, protection. It was time to join them fully again.

A practiced flick of the wrist sent a throwing dagger into the eye of one assassin, the heart of a second. She descended from her spot among the crossbeams to stand amongst the stunned circle of Crows. Her lover's smile became genuine as she unsheathed her daggers. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she began. "But I believe that particular bird belongs to me."

"It's the Warden," someone hissed behind her.

"Kill them both." The order was nearly drowned out by the war cries of the guild. The rogue Warden Commander allowed the familiar rush of adrenaline to take her. The dance of death was intimately familiar. Blades found purchase as she and her lover fell in step with the invisible music. No words were spoken, none were needed. The cocksure grins of their foes twisted into masks of fear as one by one their comrades fell. As their silent song ended, all but one lay dead at their feet. The guildmaster fled and her lover let him. 

Blades withdrawn they turned on each other. Their silent duet had ended, a victor must now emerge. Unspeaking, they approached the center square, both oblivioius yet acutely aware of the crowds around them. His simple smile was mirrored by her as blade met blade. They twisted and turned, parried and thrust, until both were breathless. No blade had found purchase and no potion had been spilled. 

A rousing cry pulled rogue from assassin. The merchant prince's forces approached the dueling pair. With a secretive smile, she released her weapon. A flash of smoke and one last sound of blade on blade sent the crowd and corrsairs reeling away from the pair. No one saw the assassin melt into the crowd, or the rogue ascend to the roofs. She makes her way across the tiled plateaus to one of the many rooms she called her own.

She is unsurprised when he emerges from the shadows of the room. She would have been disappointed if he hadn't. Nimble, steady hands removed her belt of potions while she unsheathed her bloodied daggers. Her lover's hands settled against the curve of her neck as he searched her eyes for shadows within. 

Finding none he whispers, "my love. My Kathryn."

And together, they find the shadows.


End file.
